


What Potter Wants

by birdsofshore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Job Fridays Challenge, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsofshore/pseuds/birdsofshore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry definitely didn't want to do that to Malfoy. Not at all. So why did Malfoy keep saying that he did?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Potter Wants

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Чего хочет Поттер](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6647509) by [ns17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ns17/pseuds/ns17)



> Thank you to [](http://torino10154.livejournal.com/profile)[**torino10154**](http://torino10154.livejournal.com/) for hosting [Blow Job Friday](http://torino10154.livejournal.com/509138.html). Thank you so much to [](http://icmezzo.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://icmezzo.livejournal.com/)**icmezzo** for the lovely beta. Any remaining errors are all my own work.

“Potter wants to suck my cock.” Malfoy was sitting in the big, green leather armchair in their new, eighth-year common room the Gryffindors had to share with the Slytherins, his hands resting on the fat, curved arms, legs apart, an insolent expression on his face.

“No he doesn't!” Hermione snapped, her attention pulled away from her book.

“He does, don't you, Potter?” Malfoy gave Harry a sly smile that looked as though they shared a secret.

Hermione frowned. “Ignore him, Harry. He's only trying to rile you.”

Harry turned back to the game of cards he was playing with Seamus, but he could feel curious eyes on him.

***

Malfoy plonked himself down in the armchair, a smug smile twitching at his lips. The chair always seemed to be free when he wanted it; somehow, no one else felt comfortable occupying it. “It's true, what you've probably all heard,” he announced. “Potter wants to suck my cock.”

“I fucking don't, Malfoy.”

“You do. You want it.”

Harry had to hand it to Malfoy; the git said it with complete conviction and an absolutely filthy smirk. If Harry didn't know better, he would almost believe it himself.

People were staring. The thing to do was to ignore it. If Harry didn't react, Malfoy would soon get bored. Harry picked up his magazine and turned a page. Everyone began to go about their business again.

“I don't, by the way.”

People turned to look again.

Harry cleared his throat. “I don't want to suck his cock. Just in case anyone was wondering.” 

***

It had become a routine. Malfoy walked in, shrugged his outer robes off, dumped his bag on the floor, parked his arse on the leather seat, then: “Did I mention that Potter wants to suck my cock?”

Depending on who was in earshot, people laughed, whispered, or gave Malfoy a hard time about it.

“Shut it, all right? Leave Harry alone.” Ron's fists were clenched.

Harry sighed. “This is so not funny, Malfoy.”

“That's fine. I'm not intending to be funny. It's merely the truth. But I can understand you wanting to keep it quiet.”

***

“Look, I don't want to suck Malfoy's cock.” Harry kept his voice low. They were in the library and he was trying to write an essay, but Hermione had come over “for a little chat.”

“Then why would he keep saying you do?”

“I don't know.”

Hermione gave him a long, thoughtful look. 

***

“Come on, mate. There is such a thing as denying it too much, you know.” Ron whispered after lights out, his voice serious.

“I only have to keep denying it because everyone keeps going on about it!” Harry gave his pillow a frustrated punch.

“We're not going on about it. You keep bringing it up. I'm sorry, but it's getting kind of obvious, Harry.”

Harry pulled the covers over his head.

***

 

“Harry, we don't mind you being gay.” Hermione's eyes were full of sympathy.

“I'm n—” Well. He was pretty sure that he _was_. He simply hadn't got round to telling anyone yet.

“We'll always support you, whatever you do, and it doesn't make any difference to how we—”

Ron interrupted. “Just suck it already, mate, and we can all move on.”

“But I don't _want_ —”

“Yeah, yeah, we know. You don't want to suck Malfoy's cock. As you've made quite sure to tell us every day for about the past week. Bloody hell, you'd think a bloke would trust his best mates!” 

***

That night Harry dreamed he was sucking Malfoy's cock. It strained upwards, surrounded by tight blond curls. Malfoy's hands were in his hair and he gasped as Harry took him into his mouth. Harry woke up feeling both completely pissed off, and painfully hard. He was positive this was somehow Malfoy's fault, but he didn't really feel he could complain about it to anyone. People might misunderstand, and not realise that having a dream about Malfoy's cock was entirely innocent and had nothing to do with Harry wanting to suck it.

 ***

On Saturday, Harry played Quidditch. Afterwards, when he walked to the showers, Malfoy was there, all pale and haughty. His eyes were closed as the water sluiced over his skin, rolling down the hard planes of his body, flattening his hair to his head, darkening the patch of hair around his... Harry swallowed... around his semi-erect prick. Harry moved hastily along to an unoccupied shower. 

***

On Sunday, Harry went for a long walk through the grounds. By himself. He walked briskly, swinging his arms and taking deep breaths. He never let the thought of sucking Malfoy's cock enter his mind. Not for more than a few seconds at a time, anyway.

***

On Monday, Harry sat in Charms, completely unable to pay any attention to the lesson. Flitwick had such a dull voice; that was probably why Harry's thoughts kept wandering. Malfoy was near the front and from time to time he turned round to smirk at Harry, then whispered to Goyle, who was sitting next to him. Harry wasn't paying Malfoy the slightest bit of notice, but he distinctly heard the word “suck”.

***

On Tuesday, when Malfoy plumped himself down in the green chair (“Evening, all; Potter wants to suck my cock,”) it occurred to Harry that if he were to suck Malfoy's cock, the armchair would actually be a really good place to do it. Malfoy could spread his legs beautifully wide while sitting in it, and he, Harry, could kneel quite comfortably on the rug between his feet and lean down to—

Bloody hell. Why was he even thinking about this? It was completely ridiculous. He never, not in a million years, wanted to suck Malfoy's cock. Not in the green armchair; not under the desk during Potions; not quick and desperate, hidden in an alcove in the corridor, both fully clothed and panting with need; not slow and sloppy, lying on Malfoy's bed with both of them naked, Harry's tongue sliding lazily along the length of it, till Malfoy was begging Harry to let him come.

 

***

On Wednesday, all he could think about was sucking Malfoy's cock.

Cock, cock, cock, cock, cockcockcockcockcockcockcock.

Fucking hell. He really, really wanted to do it. What in the name of Godric was he going to do now?

 ***

On Thursday, he cornered Hermione in the common room after most people had gone down for dinner.

“Is this about you and Malfoy?”

“No! Er. Maybe. Yes.”

Hermione sighed. “Look, Harry. You know he sits up late most nights after everyone's in bed?”

“Er, no?”

“Well, he does. He likes to read when it's quiet. Sometimes I'm up too, studying, but he says it doesn't bother him because I don't talk.”

“I didn't know.”

“If you wait until about half past eleven, then... well. I think you'd probably find him down here by himself.”

Harry swallowed. “OK. Thanks, Hermione. Not that I'll probably—well, thanks, anyway.”

“Are you coming to dinner?”

“Yeah, sure. Er, Hermione... Have you ever... I mean... you know, do you and Ron... ever..?”

“ _Harry!_ There are some things you just don't ask.”

“Sorry.” He shuffled his feet. “It's only that I keep wondering what it would be like.”

She rolled her eyes. “If and when you find out, Harry, I do _not_ want to hear any details.”

***

Harry waited until half past eleven. And then he waited another ten minutes, lying trembling on the bed with nerves and want. As he got up, Ron stirred. “Nnngh... wassup mate?”

“Nothing. Just going to get a drink.”

The fire was burning low in the common room and all of the lights were off except for one lamp in the corner. Malfoy was in the green chair, curled up with his feet tucked beside him, but he straightened up when Harry came in.

“Potter.” He tilted his head to one side. “And what exactly would you be here for?”

“Water,” croaked Harry. “Come to get a drink of water.”

“I see. Because you don't have a wand in your room, of course.” His face was composed of two thirds heat and one third sneer. “So you've come down here, where there isn't any water, to get a drink. Is that right?”

He leaned back, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair. “Or... are you actually here because you want to know what it's like to feel your lips wrapped around my hard, aching cock?”

A little strangled sound came out of Harry's mouth.

“Are you, Potter?”

“No.” Even to his own ears it sounded unconvincing.

“I think you are. But, here's the thing.” Malfoy slipped his hand under his robes. “I'm not going to let you.”

Harry's mouth opened but no words came out.

“No. You're never going to get to fill your mouth with it, taste me on your tongue, or feel how hot and hard I am for you.”

Oh, God. Malfoy's hand was moving under his robes, and as he shifted in his seat, the robes fell open and Harry could see... holy fuck. Malfoy was stroking himself through his trousers, and he was clearly hard. And a lot bigger when fully erect than when Harry had seen him in the shower.

“What... why...?”

“I'm not going to let you, because you'd be crap at it, Potter.” Malfoy's hand was... this was obscene. Malfoy's legs were wide apart and his head was thrown back against the green leather. “You'd be crap, and also, you're too scared to try.”

“I am not!”

“Oh, yes you are.” Malfoy's eyes were dark. They trailed deliberately over Harry's face, from his eyes, to his mouth, down his body, and back to his mouth. “You're much too scared.”

The blood was pumping hotly through Harry's veins. “I'm not scared. I'd be—I'd be awesome at it, Malfoy, for your information.” His breathing felt as if it were going double time. “Fucking awesome. And you know what? I bloody _am_ going to suck your cock.”

“Oh, you think so?” Malfoy smirked and shook his head.

Harry frowned. “I totally know so.”

Malfoy parted his robes further, shrugging them off onto the back of the chair. He reached for his belt, his fingers toying with the clasp of the buckle. He met Harry's eyes, his mouth smirking a challenge, then slipped the prong out from the hole and pulled the leather tongue free, the length of the belt slipping out with a gentle clink and swish.

“Well, Potter... I think you'd better prove it.”

Harry wet his lips as Malfoy undid the buttons of his flies. Malfoy kept his eyes on Harry's, even as his cock sprang free. Apparently, Malfoy not only didn't wear underwear, but had deeply enjoyed their argument. His erection was flushed a deep pink and strained towards the ceiling. As Malfoy took it in his hand, a bead of moisture emerged at the tip.

Merlin, it looked delicious. Absolutely delicious. Harry didn't even care that he was staring and staring. Malfoy didn't seem to mind, either, but sat there flaunting it with his fist gripping the base, the head smooth and swollen and completely suckable.

“You _do_ want to suck it.”

Harry didn't trust his voice, but he nodded.

Malfoy's eyes were half-closed, his smile wide and wicked. He breathed the words out, relishing them. “I knew it.”

Harry's legs decided this would be a good moment to fold at the knees. He dropped awkwardly to the floor, keeping his eyes on Malfoy's cock. The bead of pre-come swelled and ran down the length of it. Malfoy made a low groaning sound in his chest and used his fist to move his foreskin up and down in a long, slow motion. Harry shuffled forwards on his knees, his own cock pressed uncomfortably against his zip.

“Go on then.” Malfoy pushed his groin forwards, releasing his grasp on his prick. “Prove it.”

Harry hesitated for one more moment, then leant in, his hands on the smooth, rounded arms of the chair. His tongue reached to swipe away that moisture gathered at Malfoy's slit. It was surprisingly good: salty, slightly bitter, but in a way that made Harry's cock ache.

The room was quiet except for the fire crackling quietly to itself, and their slightly rough breathing. Harry ran the flat of his tongue along the length of Malfoy, and sighed at the intriguing, clandestine taste. He liked knowing what Malfoy tasted like, knowing this secret about him.

Malfoy shifted in the chair. “Not a lot of sucking going on, Potter...”

Harry took a deep breath and gently wrapped his lips around the head. He _wasn't_ scared. OK, he was a bit. What if he hurt Malfoy or something? What if he _was_ crap? What if—what if someone came in and caught them, saw Harry doing this...? The image of himself kneeling between Malfoy's legs, head bowed over Malfoy's cock, mouth eagerly tasting him, flashed into his mind. _Hell_. He groaned and lowered his head, his mouth stretching around the length.

The common room felt cosy and private in the dim light; Harry savoured the smell of woodsmoke and the gorgeous, musky taste of Malfoy's body. It felt like there was nobody else in the world: just him, Malfoy, and Malfoy's cock. Malfoy made lots of quiet but heartfelt sounds of appreciation and Harry found this somehow touching, and way more erotic than a lot of loud moaning.

Harry would have to say that Malfoy was actually being a bit of a prince about the whole thing. He would have secretly expected Malfoy to be as obnoxious while being sucked off as he had a tendency to be in everyday life, but no, he behaved more or less impeccably. He didn't grab Harry's hair, or thrust into his mouth presumptuously, as Harry could well imagine he might want to do, in fact the only thing that made Harry gag was his own eagerness to taste every inch. Malfoy was very careful to barely move at all, instead pressing his weight against the plump back of the chair and spreading his legs to allow Harry total access.

After the first minute or two, Malfoy had slipped his trousers all the way off, and now his balls rested on the green leather, the skin soft and supple with a sprinkling of blond hair. Harry pulled off for a moment to nuzzle at them. Merlin, Malfoy's scent was heady and intoxicating. Harry could have spent an hour or so just kissing and licking the sweet, fuzzy ovals of Malfoy's bollocks, and from the noises Malfoy was making, and his blanched knuckles gripping the chair, it was not without appeal for him either.

However, the lure of Malfoy's cock was strong, and Harry found himself again opening wide, sucking and licking, licking and sucking; sucking, and sucking, and sucking some more.

Long before Harry was ready for it to be over, Malfoy gave him warning he was about to come.

“Potter... I'm going to... You do want it, yes, you do, don't you...” The words gave one message, but there was a hint of uncertainty to his tone which made it sound almost like a plea for reassurance.

It still took Harry by surprise, the first pulses of come hitting the back of his mouth. The taste and the texture were not totally new to him from explorations while wanking, but this – a whole orgasm's worth, delivered direct – was definitely a different experience.

Malfoy was still clearly trying not to make Harry uncomfortable: his face was screwed up in what looked like agonising bliss, a series of yelps came from his mouth, but for all that he kept his bucking hips pressed back against the chair. This touching consideration alone made Harry disposed to swallow, but in truth he liked the idea as much as he had the rest of it, his own erection throbbing with need as his throat worked, making him moan along the length of Malfoy's cock. Malfoy's pale thighs were juddering with exertion, and his hands opened and closed around empty air. Harry decided this was his new favourite thing in the world.

Malfoy released one last spurt of come onto Harry's tongue, then sighed, long and contented. “Oh, Potter. Your mouth. Your fucking wonderful mouth.” He closed his eyes and sank back limply. 

***

When Harry tiptoed back to his room, he found Hermione sitting outside in her dressing gown, a Warming Charm wrapped around her. She was reading a book by the light of her wand.

“Hermione!” He felt slightly shell-shocked, and presumably looked rather wide-eyed and stumbly, for Hermione got up in concern.

“Are you OK, Harry?”

“Yup. Yup, I am.” He nodded firmly.

“Thank goodness! In another five minutes I would really have had to come and check if you were all right.”

Harry swallowed at the thought of Hermione bursting in on them, wand drawn. Afterwards, Malfoy had got Harry to sit in the chair with him while he wanked Harry with slow, sure strokes. Malfoy's eyes had been silvery and amused, and Harry― Harry had come all over his lap after about sixty seconds. He shivered at the memory.

“No, I'm fine. Hermione—It was good.“ He struggled for words to express how it had been. “It was really fucking good.”

”No details!” Hermione looked half-pleased, half-appalled. “Well, I'm glad. It's good you, er, got to try it.”

“Yup.” Harry's voice sounded hoarse.

“Why did it have to be _Malfoy_?” She sighed. “Oh well.”

Harry pushed a hand through his rumpled hair. “Maybe... maybe I've got it out of my system now?”

 _Not even close,_ his mind helpfully supplied.

Hermione patted his arm. “Oh, Harry.” She shook her head, but her smile was affectionate. “And to think life had got a bit less complicated recently. Whatever will you do next?”

***

Harry slept in, feeling like this was the first uninterrupted night's sleep he'd had for a while. When he got up the next morning, it appeared that everybody knew what had happened. He grimaced at Hermione, but she shrugged and raised her eyebrows in a “nothing to do with me” gesture. Harry sighed. He supposed you couldn't really count on Draco Malfoy to be a discreet sexual partner.

The strange thing was that nobody seemed to think it a terribly big deal. A couple of people joked about it, but not in a cruel way. Seamus slapped him on the back. Ron came over and squared his shoulders and seemed to take a deep breath before saying, “Good one, mate. Proud of you.”

Harry started to wonder why he hadn't sucked Malfoy's cock years ago.

Malfoy himself was standing by the window talking to Blaise and Marcus. He turned to give Harry a smile of pure lechery. Even at twenty paces, the force of it made Harry's toes curl in a wonderfully promising way.

However, the most noticeable change in the common room that morning centred around the infamous green leather chair. A group of people were standing around it, and appeared to be taking turns to sit in it, or just touch it reverently. Harry saw students from all years gathered around, and even a Ravenclaw and a couple of Hufflepuffs had infiltrated the common room to queue up for a turn with the chair. As Harry watched, a fourth year perched on it with an awed expression, appearing dwarfed by the oversized armchair, and piped up, “My Dad really wants to give me a Nimbus 3000 for Christmas!”

Malfoy came over and sniggered, in his ear. “Would you believe, they think it's a magic wishing chair, Potter?”

“It wasn't the _chair_...” Harry felt a blush creeping up from his neck.

Malfoy grinned. “I know that. But let them believe it, if they want to. It's terribly funny, watching them all.”

Harry nodded, as a first year wished it would be jam roly poly for pudding that day.

“I'm going down to breakfast.” Malfoy spoke low into Harry's ear. “And then, as it's a free period, I expect you really want to meet me in the Room of Requirement to suck my cock, don't you?”

Malfoy was quite right. Harry really did. But he put his lips near Malfoy's ear and whispered with quiet assurance, “Then afterwards, Malfoy, I think you'll find that you really, really want to suck mine.”


End file.
